The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1887-06-29

y
de night afore," unwillingly began
Hinda, 'in plenty O. bar soap sliced up
thin; an yo' bile 'em well, an you doan
forgit de bluein', an mind yo' doan git
de starch too stiff, an be suah yo' rensh
dc clothes right smart, ar'-ohl OIL dar
goes de pain in my po' ole bones agin, jes
all de world like crooked Gghtnin'."
So Roxy returned home not much
wiser than she went. 'Td give all my
algebra and geometry" sighed she, eff
only knew how to wash"
Joy of ioys as she went past Squire
Honeywell's big cream -colored house she
saw colony of white garments, veritable
flags of truce to her troubled mind, fut-
tering in the wind from line in the back
garden.
They're washing" said Roxy to her
self, with a frightening face. 'Now's
the time for me to go in and see how it
is done"
She slipped insinuatingly in at the
open kitchen door, whence cloud of
white steam foated forth. "Good-morn-
ing, Docia," she said to Miss Theodocia
Honeywell, the Squire's daughter. ''Do
you suppose your grandmother would
like jar of my wild plums9 They're
nice color, and keep their flavor beauti-
fully. No, don't stop your work" (as
Miss Theodocia paused courteously, and
began to wipe her soapy arms on a
roller-toweD; Ego on just as if wasn't
here"
And she eagerly settled herself to take
note of the stout young woman's every
DID inie nf
politeness were a great deal too well de-
fined to allow her to spend her time in
washing when there was company.
"You're very kind, I'm sure" said
she, "but the clothes can wait. dare
say granny would relish the plums, and
anyhow we've city boarder this month,
an artistic young gentleman, and any
little luxury comes in handy for the
table"
can artist9" wistfully repeated Roxy.
"Yes," nodded Docia "Such pictures
as he paints with squeeze or two out of
his color tubes, and dab of his brushes
1 declare it seems like magic. You paint
too, Roxy Stephens, don't youw
ga little" confessed Roxy, thinking
guiltily of the peach-blossom plaques
and the panels covered with abortive at
tempts at autumn leaves that she had
spoiled. "But painting is no use, Docia.
For a woman mean. I'd deal rather
know how to-wash."
Docia Honeywell burst out laughing.
"What odd things you do say, Roxy p'
cried she. "But when it comes to paint
ing, being no use, just wish you could
see the little bits of canvas and mill
board that our Mr.. Jeffreys gets hun.
dred and fifty dollars for. A-hundred
and -ffty-dollars Going, are you n
for, since the business of washing was
temporarily suspended, poor Roxy's pur-
pose was blighted. "Well, I'm sure it
was very kind of you to think of the pre-
served plums, and we'll be very thankful
for them, especially since mas citron all
moulded, and the blackberries fermented
and blew the tops off the cans and broke
the cellar windows. And, Roxy, if IN
stop in some afternoon will you show me
that new crochet stitch 2-the one in
shells and waves, you know, like Mrs.
Deacon Dodd's shawls.
Roxy promised that she would, and set
forth, wondering to herself why it was
that she lacked the moral courage to ask
Docia for instruction in the mysteries OF
the wash-tub Just as frankly as Docia had
requested her assistance in unraveling
the complexities of the new crochet
stitch.
II think must be dreadful goose, -
sighed Roxy. But, all the same, that
washing has got to be done, whether well
or ILL.,
And so the next morning, when Aunt
Sally had eaten the ham and eggs which
Roxy had now learned to fry in so APP
petizing a manner, and drunk the coffee
which was as clear as any amber, she set
forth on her daily task of root and herb
hunting, and Roxy carried the basket of
clothes out to the shore of the brook,
where a mighty old chestnut-tree spread
its dome of shade, washed and wrung and
rinsed them until it was a mercy that
there were any two threads left together.
Then she hung them out on the lines,
which she had stretched Sfrom tree
to tree, skewering each article safely in
its place with wooden pins, SO
/ that no frolicsome wind should lure il
"And now, 4" said Roxy, as with head
! slightly on one side she viewed the result
/ of her prowess, II think I've earned a
little rest" And drawing a novel from
her pocket, Roxy sat down under the big
tree, with her sun bonnet thrown back,
her loose curls tangled over her fore
head, and her round white arms still bare
to the shoulder, to read and before she
knew it she was asleep.
When she awakened she was no longer
alone. Between her and the sunshine
there was-could she believe her eyes,
yea, verify there was II young man hur
riedly working at "A portable easel, which
was set up on a level spot on the grass,
with all the compOsure and aplomb of q
Young man who felt himself to be in tho
right place in creations diagram. She
looked at him with solemn, sleep shad
owed eyes; he looked back at her eX
actly as if she was part of the land
scape, and worked steadily on in 81
lenCC.
''Are you an artist?" said she. "Arc
you painting the old chestnut treel Oh
yol must be the gentleman that Docia
Honeywell told me about" And ther
she suddenly remembered the tangled
fringe of cnrls, the round, uncovered